


Wolves at the Door

by EvaM



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-11
Updated: 2013-07-12
Packaged: 2017-12-14 16:07:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/838780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EvaM/pseuds/EvaM
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Harry Potter makes a miscalculation, Narcissa Malfoy makes a decision, and Remus Lupin gets a new job.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Brilliant Plan

**Author's Note:**

> AU after HBP. First story I've written for the fandom in a while and first multi-chaptered fic. Any and all feedback greatly appreciated.

If Harry and his friends had been concerned that the sounds of their apparition onto the front lawn of Malfoy Manor would give them away, they needn't have worried. They could scarcely be heard over the sound of their former classmate yelling and the roar of a werewolf as it crashed through shrubbery and stone alike. Less than a second after Harry, Ron, and Hermione had appeared on his lawn, Draco Malfoy plowed straight into them. Tangled in a pile of bodies on the ground, his eyes met Harry's own and he spared a quick moment to gasp, "Potter? What-" before he interrupted himself, scrambling up, instinctively pulling Harry with him as he yelled, "FUCKING RUN!"

-

It had been a very good plan. Horcruxes needed finding. The Order wasn't telling them anything, and the Burrow was growing progressively more depressing as its motley crew of inhabitants and guests made their way through. 

The Hogwarts term had started a month ago, and although the adult members of the Order had long since stopped pressuring the trio to return for their final year, they still looked on with disapproval as the three poured over books surreptitiously obtained from the Hogwarts library, and refused to tell anyone outside their circle what it was they sought. They fell into a routine, Order members passing through, meetings they were rarely included in, snippets of information from the outside world, and books. Lots of books. 

There had been two major breaks in their routine, one wonderful and one quite awful. Bill and Fleur's wedding had been a splendid event, with fascinating guests from all over the world. Hermione and Ginny had looked resplendent in their gowns and had managed to coax more than a few dances from a very reluctant Harry and Ron. Bill had never looked happier and Fleur had never looked more beautiful. 

The second interruption to their routine came about a week later. Bill and Fleur had left for their honeymoon, and The Burrow was mostly quiet when Severus Snape walked through and door and Harry unceremoniously tried to kill him. After much shouting, Kingsley Shacklebolt putting him in a full body-bind, and Fred and George sitting on his chest, Harry finally listened as Snape's final promise to Dumbledore was explained. When Snape asked to speak to Harry alone, Fred and George reluctantly got off of him and left, loudly remarking, "I'd leave that body-bind on if I were you. Bloke's faster with his fists than with his wand." 

Snape, with as much courtesy as he could muster in the face of Harry's antipathy (so, about as much courtesy as usual), had pledged to assist Harry and the group in locating and destroying the rest of the Horcruxes. However, he said, his work with Voldemort would keep him busy, and he could make no promise of when he would return. That had been weeks ago and the group was growing restless. That was when Ron hit on the brilliant plan. 

"Bloody buggering hell! I bet if sodding Malfoy needed the horcruxes, Snape would hop-to." He tossed his quill down and swigged pumpkin juice defiantly. Hermione raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. Sitting across the table from Ron, Harry steepled his fingers and rested his chin on them, thinking. 

"You know, Ron, that's not a bad idea?" 

Ron furrowed his brow in confusion. "What? Tell Snape that Malfoy needs the horcruxes?" 

Harry shook his head. "No, tell Snape that Malfoy might already have them. We know there was at least one entrusted to the Malfoy's- the diary-, and we know that Malfoy Manor is overflowing with dark objects. Who's to say there wouldn't be another horcrux there?" 

Hermione frowned slightly. "That's a nice idea, Harry, but we haven't heard from Snape in weeks. We don't even know when he'll be back. I think we should just keep researching." 

"Or we could go to Malfoy Manor ourselves." Harry and Hermione regarded Ron with measured surprise. "No, I'm serious. We know Voldemort's holed up in that abandoned castle on the coast. Snape said the Death Eaters are based there, so we probably wouldn't even see Arsehole and Arsehole junior. The only one we'd have to maybe contend with is Malfoy's mum, and how hard could that be?"

Motivated largely by sheer boredom and the prospect of a break in the monotony, Harry and Ron spent the better evening talking Hermione around. What finally convinced her was Ron's wheedling, "And you know there'll be loads of dark objects with historical value at Malfoy's house. Think of what you could learn. You could even nick a few of them." Though she was loath to condone breaking, entering, and stealing, Hermione's eye did start to sparkle when she talked about the educational value of seeing inside one of the most infamous homes in Wizarding Britain. 

With Hermione on board, the three made their plan over the next few days, retired to their rooms on the appointed night, and waited for The Burrow to fall asleep. 

-

Now, it was the wee hours of the morning, no one knew where they were, and Harry, Ron, and Hermione were well on their way to becoming a snack for an enormous, slavering werewolf. As they ran, hot on Draco's heels, Hermione could be heard muttering, "We picked the night of the full moon. Why did I think it was okay to pick the night of the full moon?" Hazarding a glance behind them, Ron shoved her lightly to speed her along and wailed, "Shut up and run." 

In front of them, Draco had almost reached the front door of the Manor when he tripped. Ron stumbled over him and Harry and Hermione skidded to a halt to help them up. Facing the way they came, Draco was the first one to see the werewolf gaining on them. "Oh, no." He looked around desperately, but the door was too far the reach before the werewolf would overtake them. The first to reach her wand, Hermione threw a stunner and it hit the wolf square in the chest, hard enough to knock him down. 

Harry grabbed her arm and pulled her back, hastening toward the Manor. "That won't keep him down for long? Malfoy, why the hell is there a werewolf chasing you?"

Face contorted in misery, Malfoy moaned, "It's Fenrir Greyback." That was all the answer they needed. The four teenagers scrambled for the door, but behind them, Fenrir was back on his feet and preparing to leap. 

That was when the Manor door opened, there was a loud crack, and Greyback's head exploded.


	2. Across Enemy Lines

Narcissa Malfoy stood framed in the doorway, imposing, blonde, and just rumpled enough that one had the impression she had dressed very quickly upon hearing her son scream as he ran across the lawn. Her eyes narrowed as she took in the scene before her: A pale and sweaty Harry Potter, a gangly ginger with a sprained ankle who could only be Potter's pet Weasley, their mudblood girlfriend who was currently trying to clean pieces of Fenrir Greyback out of her hopelessly tangled hair, and her son, Draco, who was presently vomiting in the rose bushes. She sighed, adjusted her grip on the shotgun in her hands (noting with some pleasure how the three intruders' eyes widened to the size of dinner plates when they saw it) and shouted, "Mingy!" A house elf wearing a frayed pink tea cozy appeared. "Mingy, please dispose of the mess on my front walkway, and when that's done, assess the damage to the rose bushes."

Mingy nodded and turned to do so, emitting only a small squeak when she saw the mess she was to dispose of. Even as a man, Fenrir Greyback was huge, dirty, and altogether frightening. His nails were still claw-like and cruel, and the fact that he was naked and missing half his face only made him more of a horror show. Mingy took a deep breath, steadied herself, and snapped her fingers. In the space of a blink, the walkway was clear and clean again. As she turned toward the rose bushes, her mistress cleared her throat and pointed at Hermione. Mingy twitched violently and squeaked, "Mingy is sorry, Mistress! Mingy did not clean the whole mess. Mingy will iron her hands after the rose bushes are-"

"That won't be necessary. Just make sure out guests are clean before they enter the house, and while you're at it, collect their wands." Mingy nodded, turned to Hermione, and snapped again. Suddenly, not only was there no gore in her clothes or hair, the dirt and grass stains were gone. A quick check revealed that so was her wand. Mingy repeated the procedure with the other two, and turned to her mistress, who nodded. "All right. I suppose you...children had better come inside." The chill in her voice brooked no argument and under her cool gaze, the four teens made their way into the Manor, Draco in the lead and a limping Ron bringing up the rear.

Harry whispered to Hermione, "She can't move that fast with a shotgun, right? They're heavy. Do you think-"

He was cut short when Narcissa thumped him in the shoulder with the shotgun. "Potter, I think it's best if you don't think."

She gestured them into a sitting room that was bigger than the Dursley's house. Harry could practically hear Hermione taking notes on everything she saw. Ancient tapestries that looked as brilliant as the day they were weaved adorned the walls, the floor was a rich, dark mahogany, and the furniture was all creamy white with accents of gold and black. Portraits of Malfoy ancestors snored gently in their frames, and an ornate grandfather clock on the far side of the room was striking two.

Without pretense, Narcissa cast _petrificus totalus_ on Harry and his friends, and after a moment's thought, levitated them onto one of the sofas. Draco collapsed in the first chair he came to, still pale and shaky, with a thin sheen of sweat coating his face. Narcissa settled herself into the chair next to her son's and placed the shotgun on the floor by her feet.

"Potter, while I'm sure your excuse for invading my home is perfectly charming, as you can see, it is very late and my patience is thin. I will remove your body-bind, you will explain yourself, and you will speak only when spoken to. If you attempt to escape or cause harm to me or my son in any way, what I did to Greyback will look like a birthday party compared to what I do to you."

With a flick of her wand, she removed the body-bind, replacing it with ornate, and very tight ropes around the trio's hands and ankles. "Now, what do you have to say for yourself?"

Harry stared back at her defiantly. "What I have to say is: what's a pureblood witch doing with a Muggle weapon?"

Beside him, he felt Hermione tense and heard Ron mutter something that might have been, "Bloody hell, invite her to use it on us, why don't you?"

To everyone's surprise, Narcissa laughed softly and answered the question. "When I was very young and the two of us were still speaking, I accompanied my sister and her mudblood lover to what the muggles call a cinema. We saw a quaint little story about a group of people locked in a house with a werewolf, and they used bullets made of silver to kill it. I rather liked that idea and it stayed with me. Given the company my husband was keeping and for the matter, still keeps, I picked myself up a present."

Harry frowned. "But why not just use magic?"

It was Hermione who answered him. "Because werewolves can shake off almost any spell except a killing curse, and the chances of landing a killing curse before the werewolf takes you down..."

"Precisely. It's easier to dodge a spell than it is a bullet. Especially if you don't know what one is." Narcissa smiled like she'd had more than a few chances to make that observation. The smile faded quickly, however, as she gripped her wand tightly and leaned forward to look Harry directly in the eyes. "Now, perhaps you can tell me why my son was being run down by the creature who made such a mess of my lawn?"

Before Harry could answer, Draco spoke, his voice soft and strained. "They don't know, mum."

She raised an eyebrow, "Oh really?"

He nodded. "I don't know when they showed up, but it was after Greyback did. I- I knew he was coming."

Narcissa's eyes flashed and her jaw clenched. She took a deep breath and softly asked, "And what business of Fenrir Greyback's involved my son?" Voice crescendoing, she continued, "And what made my son think it was a good idea to inform _no one_ that the most dangerous, unstable, lecherous creature in Wizarding Britain was coming after him with a vengeance and would, in fact, be _at his house_?"

Voice barely above a whisper he answered, "I thought I could handle it."

"Handle it?" Narcissa was shaking slightly, though with fury or retroactive terror for her son, no one could tell.

"He was coming here to kill me. I thought maybe I could kill him first."

Narcissa leaned forward and put her head in her hands. Harry thought she might have been crying, but when she sat up again, her eyes were dry. "Draco, I am going to set aside for the moment how incomprehensibly stupid you have been, how you could have been killed or worse, and the fact that this entire situation will cause no end of strife for your father, who is right now considerably less useful to The Dark Lord than that mangy beast, and I am going to ask you once more, why was Fenrir Greyback trying to kill you?"

Draco swallowed hard and said, "He thought I took something that belonged to him."

"And what was that?" There was a long silence after her question. Draco seemed to have retreated inward, not wanting to answer or not knowing how to.

Finally, he swallowed again and met his mother's eyes. "Tori."

Hermione gasped, though neither Malfoy paid her any notice, and Harry and Ron regarded her with confusion. After a second, though, Ron's eyes widened too and before he could stop himself, he exclaimed, "Bloody hell!"

Narcissa Malfoy, though she already knew the answer, said, "Draco, you don't mean-" at the same time as Harry asked, "I don't get it. Who's Tori?"

Hermione met Draco's eyes with the question. He nodded, and she answered for him, "Astoria Greengrass."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The movie Narcissa is referring to, for anyone who's interested, is The Beast Must Die. From what I've read, it's a pretty standard 70s horror flick, but it might be fun to see because due to budget restraints, the wolf was played by a German Shepherd. I wanted to use An American Werewolf in London, but the timeline would've been off.


	3. Unacceptable

Narcissa had gone very still in her seat after Hermione uttered the name. Slowly, she asked her son, "Draco, why did Fenrir Greyback think that you were...involved with Astoria Greengrass?"  
  
"Because I am."  
  
At his answer, she twitched almost imperceptibly, and whispered, "Damn it, Draco." She took a deep breath, which seemed to steady her a little, and continued, "And how long has this liaison been going on?"  
  
For all that he was still pale and looked like he could be sick again at any moment, Draco answered his mother's question with his head held high. "A few months now. After the incident, Snape entreated the Dark Lord not to punish me severely, so instead he put me in charge of the werewolves. Monitoring their activities. Keeping them in line."  
  
Harry stiffened when he heard Malfoy say "the incident." That's all Dumbledore's death was? The bastard had watched him die in front of his own eyes not five minutes after receiving an offer of mercy and all his death was to him was an incident?  
  
Sensing his rage, Hermione bumped Harry's shoulder and he relaxed slightly and continued listening to Malfoy's story.  
  
"I think it pleased the Dark Lord that I had to spend a lot of time in close quarters with Greyback and has pack. Most of them were monsters, even in human form. They were dirty, perverse, uncivilized. Tori wasn't like that. She was kind and smart, and she told me what to do and who to talk to so I could manage The Dark Lord's will and get out in one piece. I-I fell in love with her."  
  
Narcissa snapped, "Draco!"  
  
"No! I'm in love with her. You and dad weren't much older when you announced your engagement." His eyes flashed when he said the last part, and Harry noticed that he carried the same cold fury as his mother, but with only a fraction of the self control.  
  
Narcissa, meanwhile, was furious, but her anger manifested itself in a calm stillness and Harry imagined in that moment how easy it much have been for her to shoot Greyback. The angrier she was, the more steady her hands. "Your father," she said, "was not a _werewolf_."  
  
"Tori's a pureblood."  
  
Harry interrupted without thinking. "There's a pureblood werewolf?"  
  
When both Malfoys turned to look at him, he instantly regretted speaking. Draco's cheeks were flushed and he was shaking slightly. It reminded Harry of the night in the bathroom and he found himself looking at the open neck of Draco's shirt to see if he could see scars.  
  
Narcissa just looked murderous and, not for the first time that night, Harry wanted to kick Ron for his assessment of Malfoy's mother. _How hard could it be, my arse._  
  
So, Harry was very surprised when Draco, without even a hint of malice, answered his question. "There's a lot of pureblood werewolves. Greyback and his ilk went after children and they didn't much care what their blood was as long as they tasted it fresh." He gave an involuntary shudder, which marred the illusion of composure he was trying to maintain in the face of a very angry mother. "Most of their families disown them. They go to orphanages or they're picked up by the pack. Tori's family wasn't like that. They tried. They taught her at home because having her at Hogwarts was too dangerous, even with her sister to look out for her. She told me they were going to let her try to join the second year class if Professor Lupin had worked out, but when people found out he was a werewolf, they ran him off."  
  
"Professor Lupin went to Hogwarts." Harry wasn't sure why he made the observation, but it felt important.  
  
Draco scoffed, but it lacked venom. "Yeah, and he almost killed someone because his friends tried to pull a prank. I heard the story from him and I heard it from Snape. I also heard it from Tori. The story of how Sirius Black and James Potter tried to kill Severus Snape using their best friend as a booby trap is used as a cautionary tale to the young werewolves that think they can be normal. It's bullshit."  
  
Narcissa murmured, "Language, Draco," but she seem content to let the exchange continue for the moment.  
  
Harry said softly, "My dad stopped it." His father was not to be used as a campfire tale to frighten baby werewolves.  
  
Draco regarded him coolly. "Bully for him." He took a breath and continued. "Tori's parents taught her at home right up until the Dark Lord started recruiting the werewolves. Then Greyback started coming around again, hassling her family to give her up, saying it was her duty to join the pack. She ran away after she heard that he'd threatened her sister on a Hogsmeade weekend, and she's been with the pack ever since."  
  
He turned back to address his mother directly, "But she's normal! She's a pureblood witch and she knows magic, which a lot of the wolves don't, and she knows manners, and she'd probably always know what fork to use at dinner, and she's..." He ran out of steam then, painfully aware of how ridiculous he must have sounded.  
  
Narcissa replied to him, "The moment that girl's blood was infected, it stopped being pure." She might have gone on, but her eyes widened fractionally as something occurred to her, and she asked, "Draco, are you sleeping with her?"  
  
Slowly, he nodded, and then everyone saw what it looked like when Narcissa Malfoy lost her composure.  
  
As they listened to various iterations of, "How could you be so _foolish_?",  "What you could have done to yourself!", "Putting your entire family at risk!", and "I love her, mum!", Hermione softly told Harry and Ron, "The probability of female-to-male lycanthropy transfer via sexual intercourse is 5%. It's higher in male-to-female relations, something like 8.5%."  
  
Ron whispered, "Bloody hell, that means that if Malfoy shagged his girlfriend a hundred times, five of those times could turn him into a werewolf?"  
  
Harry answered, I don't think that's how math works, Ron."  
  
Hermione rolled her eyes and continued, "There are ways to protect against it. The human partner can drink an infusion of wolfsbane and lavender. There are also some spells, but all of it is very highly regulated and none of the regular preventative spells cover lycanthropy. It's very unlikely Malfoy would have known any of this." She paused and smirked a little. "Of course, it's also very unlikely that he shagged his girlfriend one hundred times, Ron."  
  
Harry whispered, "So he's probably okay?"  
  
"Yeah, he's probably okay."  
  
Narcissa, having shouted enough to fill her quota for the next year or so, settled herself back in her chair and stated plainly, "This is unacceptable, Draco. I know you know that."  
  
Draco, having weathered his mother's outburst with his pride mostly intact, said nothing.  
  
"Does anyone else know about your unfortunate liaison? If Greyback figured it out, there must be others. Does Severus know?"  
  
Draco shook his head. "Snape doesn't know. I made sure of it. I think most of the werewolves knew. They could-" and he flushed deeply, "They could smell it on us. And I told Pansy, Crabbe, and Goyle." He thought for a moment. "And Tori told her sister, Daphne, which means Blaise probably knows too. I think that's it."  
  
Narcissa sighed. It had been a very long night. "Draco, you are going to go up to your room, you are going to owl all of your friends and tell them that your dalliance with a mongrel bitch has run its course, and you are to end this thing before you put yourself and your family at any more risk."  
  
Now it was Draco's turn to shout. "I will not! Pansy and my friends understand that this is real love and fuck you if you don't! I'm not ending it. I'm going to marry her." He stopped short, as if only just realizing what had left his mouth. Then he took a quick breath and continued, "See if I don't. Besides, wolves mate for life."  
  
The Malfoy family shouting match probably would have continued for longer if Hermione had been able to keep herself from interrupting, "Actually, that's not strictly true for werewolves..."  
  
Both Narcissa and Draco quieted then and stared at Harry and his friends, as if suddenly noticing that their living room was presently occupied by teenagers and not just talking furniture. Then, shocking pretty much everyone, Narcissa began to laugh.  
  
She laughed until her eyes watered and when she finally calmed down enough to speak, she said "Draco, go to your room, get cleaned up and get some sleep. We will deal with your poor decisions tomorrow after breakfast." She waved him out, and he hastened to go, for the first time noticing how much his mother resembled her mad sister when she lost her composure. He supposed he was lucky it didn't happen often.  
  
Narcissa turned to the trio, still bound on the couch and ever-so worried that she had asked Draco to leave so that she could perform unspeakable tortures on them. She delicately wiped her eyes with her sleeve and said, "Now then, what am I going to do with you?"  
  
Ron ventured, "You could let us go and we'll promise to be very sorry and never speak of this again?"  
  
Narcissa smirked, "I'm afraid I can't do that, Weasley. You could cause no end of problems for my family and as you can see, we've got quite enough to deal with. Mingy!"  
  
Mingy scurried into the room, and no one thought it polite to tell her that she had a bit of shrubbery clinging to her tea cozy. "Mingy is hearing Mistress call?"  
  
"Yes, Mingy. I want you to take our guests up to a bedroom in the east wing. You may remove their bindings, but ensure that they cannot leave. If they escape, it's clothes for you." Mingy gulped. "Prepare a plate of tea and biscuits for Master Draco. He's had a long night. And-" She regarded the trio with distaste. "I suppose you can feed our guests as well. They certainly look like they need it."  
  
Ron opened his mouth to say that his mum was was feeding them perfectly well, but thought better of it.  
  
Mingy nodded fervently, so that her whole body was essentially nodding. "Mingy will do this, Mistress! Mingy will not fail!"  
  
Mingy probably wouldn't have failed, but before she got a chance to do anything, there was a disturbance at the fireplace and Severus Snape stepped through.


	4. A Disturbance

Snape stepped through the Floo and quickly brushed some ash from his shoulder before striding purposefully over to Narcissa.  
  
"Narcissa, my apologies for dropping in this late. I'm gratified to find I haven't woken you at this ungodly hour. There's been a disturbance at the Dark Lord's camp, and I'm afraid I'm going to need to speak to Draco about it immediately."  
  
Narcissa's eyes widened fractionally. "Severus, you are always welcome here. You know that. However, I must insist that you tell me in detail about this disturbance that brings you to my home in the darkest hours before dawn before you say anything at all to my son. You'll need to wait a moment while I set some other matters in order."  
  
She gestured toward the sofa and for the first time, Snape's gaze alighted on Harry and his friends still tied up. His eyes registered a brief moment of total shock before they hardened, and his mouth curled into a sneer. "I see now what kept you up so late. I trust you're handling things?"  
  
"Actually, these unexpected houseguests were not a party to the Manor's own disturbance this evening," she replied wryly. "Although they didn't help things."  
  
She then nodded to Mingy, who snapped to attention. There was a sudden crack, and Harry, Ron, and Hermione found themselves in a bedroom the size of an entire dormitory, sans bonds. Mingy gave them a smile and said, "Mingy will return with biscuits and tea!"  
  
Not five seconds later, Mingy had done just that, and after asking several times if they needed anything else, she popped out of the room again.  
  
The first thing Ron did was try the door, but it didn't budge in either direction. Harry gave it a go next while Hermione sat on the bed and watched. "You know that isn't going to work, don't you? She gave Mingy express orders not to let us out. House elves are very powerful when they channel their abilities."  
  
Defeated, Harry and Ron joined her on the bed and considered the plate of biscuits. Ron asked, "You think these are safe to eat? I mean, she didn't tell Mingy to poison us."  
  
Harry answered, "I think if she wanted us dead, all she'd have to do was tell Lucius we're here, and he could tell his boyfriend. That, or she could shoot us."  
  
Ron snorted. "'Spose you're right. Dibs on the lemon ones!"  
  
Hermione rolled her eyes and hopped off the bed to investigate the bathroom. Everything was green and white marble, which complimented the bedroom's rich green walls and ivory bedspread. The tub was almost as big as the one in the prefect's bathroom, and had a similar array of faucets. She looked around and upon finding more than enough enormous, fluffy, white towels in a cabinet next to the tub, she poked her head back into the bedroom and said, "While you two are stuffing your faces, I'm going to have a wash."  
  
After she disappeared into the bathroom, closing the door behind her, Ron turned to Harry and said, "Fucking nuts about Malfoy, yeah?"  
  
Harry shrugged. "I dunno. It was kind of cool seeing him stand for...something, y'know? Something that wasn't total bollocks." He thought back to the night when Malfoy had hesitated after cornering Dumbledore. "I reckon his parents are a lost cause, but he might walk out of this all right." Off Ron's look, he amended, "I mean as all right as a bloody git like him can be."  
  
Ron accepted this and asked, "What do you think Snape was on about? Got to be werewolves, right? Otherwise why would he need Malfoy?"  
  
Harry nodded. "Might just be he's talking about Fenrir going off on his own. Do you think?"  
  
Ron thought. "Might be. I guess if we ever get out of here, we can get the full story from Remus." They both quieted for a moment. No one was particularly comfortable with their professor's role in spying on Voldemort's activities, but he only joined activities of the werewolf pack when it was absolutely necessary, like on the full moon.  
  
Their pensive moment was interrupted by a harsh, insistent pounding on the door.  
  
\-----  
  
Draco stepped out of the shower feeling marginally better than he had earlier in the night and fished a pair of comfortable pajamas out of his bureau. After a moment's consideration, he decided that mulling over events of the last few hours would be better done with something in his stomach and looked around for some sort of snack. Seeing nothing, he frowned slightly, thinking that his mother could have at least asked Mingy to prepare him some tea and crackers.  
  
"Mingy?" He called experimentally.  
  
She popped into the room not two seconds later carrying a large tray with a pot of tea on it along with an array of biscuits. "Mingy is sorry, Master Draco! Mingy was going to come right away, but Professor Snape arrived and-" Mingy fell silent then, perhaps realizing that her mistress's son was not supposed to have that information.  
  
Draco looked at her sharply, all hunger and tiredness forgotten. "Professor Snape is here? Why?"  
  
"Mingy does not know, sir. Mingy was not even asked to prepare his tea before she came up here to serve Master Draco and Harry Potter."  
  
His eyes narrowed. "Potter's up here too. Which room? The Gold Room?" Mingy shook her head. "The Green Room?" Eye wide, Mingy nodded, unsure of whether this was information for sharing, but afraid to refuse it.  
  
Draco sighed. "And you've no idea why Professor Snape is here?"  
  
Voice barely above a whisper, she answered, "Mingy heard Professor Snape say there was a disturbance."  
  
"In the Dark Lord's camp?" She nodded again. "Did he say among whom?"  
  
Mingy shook her head. After a moment's thought, she added, "He said he wanted to talk to Master Draco, but Mistress said that he would tell her what happened first." She trembled slightly as she said this.  
  
Expression dark, Draco nodded. "Very well, Mingy. That will be all." The house elf hesitated for a moment, but said nothing else before she disappeared.  
  
Draco strode to the trunk in his closet where he kept what remained of his Weasley's Wizard Wheezes purchases. He picked through them delicately, not wanting to set anything off, until he found what he was looking for: Extendable Ears. Slipping out of his room as quietly as possible, he stretched them down the hallway in the direction of the stairs and sat down to listen.  
  
"Is that common practice among werewolves, to name a successor?" His mother's voice.  
  
Snape. "I imagine it is when the alpha knows he is in danger of being killed. Otherwise there would be bedlam in the pack. They can all sense it when the alpha dies"  
  
Narcissa snorted softly. "It sounds as though there was bedlam anyway."  
  
Snape replied, "No, this was a formal challenge. It's as organized as werewolves get in their beast form. A fight to the death between the rising alpha and a challenger. It's normally fairly straightforward. Tonight, however..."  
  
"Was it only the challenger that made it so unusual or was it what subsequently transpired?"  
  
There was a long pause before Snape answered. "The manner of the challenge was very unusual. It's not uncommon for adolescent werewolves to enter challenges, though their lack of size and maturity means they almost never win. Those cases are usually teenage boys, however, all pent up emotions and hormones out of control. I have never heard of an adolescent female challenger. Females rarely attain alpha status. Their smaller size generally makes the goal impossible. For one that wasn't even fully grown, it was a suicide mission."  
  
Draco suddenly felt cold all over and the nauseous feeling had returned to the pit of his stomach. Astoria had challenged Greyback's successor. Why?  
  
The words reverberated in his mind over and over, _a suicide mission_. He almost missed what his mother said next.  
  
"So if Lupin hadn't intervened-"  
  
"The girl would be dead," Snape finished. "That was the other unusual circumstance. A second challenge is not typically issued until the first challenger is dead. As the victor, however, he determined her outcome, and made it clear that she was under his protection." A pause and then he said, somewhat drily, "His victory was unequivocal. I'm told it was quite gruesome."  
  
Narcissa muttered, "Probably about as gruesome as what I did tonight." Then, louder, she asked, "Where are they now?"  
  
"Recovering with the rest of the pack. The Dark Lord sent me here tonight to inform Draco of what has occurred. He believes it was a simple mating dispute and I have done nothing to disabuse him of that notion."  
  
"The moon is going down. They'll be human again soon?" Draco couldn't hear anything, but he assumed Snape had nodded, because the next thing his mother said was, "I can tell you what really happened, I think. I can certainly answer some of your questions. First, you will do something for me. You will return to the Dark Lord and you will ensure that he knows nothing of the circumstances surrounding Greyback's death. Greyback has simply vanished and good riddance to old rubbish. Second-"  
  
Draco heard his mother take a deep breath before she continued, "You will have both of them brought here, the girl and Lupin. I will have my personal physician see to them, and we will discuss what to do in the morning."  
  
If Snape had any objection to this directive, he didn't voice it, knowing better than to argue with Narcissa at that moment, and he simply replied, "I can do that. And Draco?"  
  
Voice severe, she responded, "I will decide when he needs to know about this."  
  
The next sound he heard was the whoosh of the Floo, and his mother's soft footsteps as she left the sitting room.  
  
Shaken, Draco stumbled back to his room and collapsed on the bed. Tori had almost died. There was no reason for her to have done what she did unless it had to do with him, and she would be dead if Lupin hadn't stepped in and saved her.  
  
Lupin. Lupin had torn apart another werewolf so that Tori could survive.  
  
Draco thought of his interactions with the man up to this point. Defense class in Third year. Seeing him around the werewolf area in the days leading up to the full moon. His eyes always sorrowful and his smile always kind. His former teacher wasn't a killer, except now he was and it was Draco's fault. He shivered violently for what felt like a long time. When it finally stopped, without really knowing why, he hurled himself out of bed, tore down the hall and pounded on the door of the Green Room.


	5. Robes and Revelations

Hermione stepped out of the bath feeling refreshed. The water temperature had been perfect and she'd filled the tub with a variety of scented foams, including lavender for relaxation and peppermint for mental acuity. She didn't put much stock in aromatherapy, but she was starting to after her soak in that tub.  
  
After a moment's consideration, she put on the big, fluffy robe that was obviously kept for guests. She regarded her torn jeans with a sigh and quashed the impulse to ask Mingy if she could fix them. Sweet and accommodating as the house elf was, it would be unethical to take advantage of her servitude. Before she could come to a decision one way or another on her clothes, the pounding started. Hermione huffed softly and decided that whatever enemy she had to face right at this moment, she would face wrapped in a fluffy cloud.  
  
She strode out of the bathroom, ignoring the scandalised faces of Harry and Ron, and went straight to the door, which still wouldn't open. "You're wasting your time," she called. "We can't open the door from the inside."  
  
She heard what sounded like a shuddering sob from the other side of the door. "Malfoy?" She asked, exchanging a worried look with Harry and Ron.  
  
"Please, can I come in?" His voice was shaky, and heavy as though something had broken inside of him. There was no trace of the fire from earlier in the evening.  
  
Harry answered him. "It's your house. I think you can do whatever you want."  
  
There was a sound like someone trying to open the door, but it didn't budge. Then, Draco called out, voice rasping and barely above a whisper, "Mingy?" They heard a faint pop. "Master Draco needs to get into this room." They couldn't quite make out Mingy's reply, but they heard Draco assure her that he wasn't going to let the prisoners out. The door swung open.  
  
Draco looked terrible. His eyes were bloodshot and red like he'd been rubbing them. He was in a pair of green, silken pajamas that would have under different circumstances been an object of much ridicule. Tonight, however, they were just big pieces of fabric that swallowed a boy who wasn't eating or sleeping nearly enough, and the dark green accented the circles under his eyes. He padded into the room gingerly, and looked at each of the trio in turn, expression barely changing when he saw Hermione in the robe. He said, "I didn't know what else to do."  
  
Harry gestured for him to take a seat in the armchair closest to the bed, and asked him slowly, the way one would speak to a child, "Didn't know what else to do about what?"  
  
The three settled themselves on the bed and listened as he recounted, in halting tones, the conversation he had eavesdropped on. Hermione could barely contain a shudder when he explained that Professor Lupin had fought another wolf and killed it, and when she cast a glance to either side of her, she saw Ron had gone white and Harry's expression was grim.  
  
"And now they're going to be here and I don't know what Mother is going to do and I don't know how badly they're hurt but I know it's bad, and I..."  
  
He trailed off. After a moment, Ron offered, "Well, she said she's going to have your physician see to them, right? So they're probably going to be okay."  
  
Forehead wrinkled in concern, Hermione asked, "He wouldn't tell anyone would he? The physician?"  
  
Draco shook his head. "Healer Tracht is very discreet. It's why the Malfoys have employed him for so many years. He's seen to Father after-" He stopped himself, considering that to whom he was speaking, revealing more might be unwise. He smiled bitterly and decided he didn't care, "Well, you can imagine what one comes home with from the service of the Dark Lord."  
  
Hermione shuddered in spite of herself and he noticed for the first time that she was wearing a robe. "Granger, um, you're not dressed." Off Ron and Harry's murderous looks, he amended, "It's fine. You're fine. The robe is...fine."  
  
Hermione hopped off the bed, mindful of the robe, and said, "Despite that rousing endorsement, I think I'll go and change back into my clothes."  
  
She departed for the bathroom and the three boys sat in silence. Draco seemed to draw into himself, the strain of telling the story and his exhaustion from the night's events catching up to him. Ron and Harry watched him for a long moment before Harry said, "We've got to see Remus."  
  
Draco tilted his head, and stared at Harry with eyes that looked older by the second. "Of course  you do. And I've got to see Tori. That doesn't mean either of us is going to get what we want."  
  
Ron piped up, "When are you going to talk to your mum? And Snape?"  
  
Draco looked away. "I don't know. I don't think I can face Snape right now, not with everything that's happened. I already put him in an impossible position once. Now I'm doing it again. I'm making him protect me again."  
  
Harry swallowed, and said, "Well I reckon, maybe, he- he might want to do that. If he cares about you, you know."  
  
"I don't know what he cares about. I don't see why it should be me. I destroy everything I touch." He fingered his pajama top lightly and Harry could tell he was running his hands over his scars. Scars Harry had put there.  
  
He said softly, "People fight for you because they believe you're worth fighting for, and it's up to you to be the person they fought for. My parents died for me and I live every day knowing that's the legacy I carry. It's hard, and there are times I've wanted to quit, but I don't, because I've got people counting on me, people who believe I'm a hero, and people who died because they believed I was worth dying for."  
  
Draco regarded him with a still gaze, "And are you?"  
  
Before Harry could answer, Hermione came back from the bathroom dressed once again in her jeans and sweater. "I've been thinking, Draco. Your friends know about your relationship with Astoria. They must also know what you do for Vol- for You-Know-Who." Draco nodded and she continued, "I think you should owl them and tell them what's going on. They might be able to help, or know something you don't. At the very least, you ought to tell Daphne what's happened to her sister."  
  
Draco stood quickly and drew his wand. Harry, Ron, and Hermione all recoiled, but he only waved it once and repaired the tear in Hermione's jeans. His face was set in determination and he inclined his head slightly before turning to go.  
  
He stopped at the door and said, "I imagine Mother will have you downstairs for breakfast. The house elves like to make a production out of it, especially when we have guests." He smirked faintly at the word _guests_. "You can talk to her about Professor Lupin then. I think he'll be fine. Mother's always liked him. She knew him when he was young." He gave each of them a long, searching look and finally said, "Thank you. I don't know what I was looking for when I came here, but I think I found it."  
  
Then Draco Malfoy, feeling lighter than he had all evening, left the Green Room and went to fetch his owl.  
  
\-------  
Side-by-side, Narcissa and Severus looked down at the small girl the bed of one of the Manor's many guest rooms. She looked lost among the expanse of bedsheets and pillows and, against the clean white of the linens, very dirty. Her hair was a dusky brown, and short, cut inexpertly with what had probably been a knife. Her bones stuck out painfully and Narcissa was certain that if she pulled the sheet back, she could count the girl's ribs.  
  
The girl. Not werewolf. Not the daughter of Lucius' political allies. Not the fifteen-year-old time bomb capable of destroying her son's life. Just a girl.  
  
The physician had left about an hour ago, explaining that he had set the broken arm, wrapped it in a sling, and she was not to try to use it for at least a week. He had not, he continued, stitched up the cuts, because werewolves did not often respond well to stitches and healed fine without them. There were a variety of salves and potions in the bedside table, which she was to administer twice a day, every day until the girl was better. Did she think she could handle that?  
  
Narcissa had nodded and the doctor bowed his head to her and left. She could count on his discretion. They certainly paid him enough. (And even if they didn't, there were spells for that sort of thing).  
  
After the doctor had gone, Narcissa and Snape sat in silence for a while, then Narcissa rose abruptly and went into the room where her son's paramour lay sleeping. Severus followed. He was the first to speak.  
  
"Her sister's hair is red. I'm not certain it's natural though. Tinting potions are all the rage with the young generation. You know I've never learned to make them?"  
  
They shared a small laugh. The greatest potions maker of the age, and he didn't know how to make a vanity potion. Unsurprising. One wouldn't have asked Albus Dumbledore for a slimming glamour after all.  
  
He continued, "She's a good student, Daphne. Bright, inquisitive, not particularly gifted at potions, but she works very hard. As her teacher, I'm impressed, but as her head of house, I'm concerned she pushes herself too hard." He paused, thought for a moment. "She almost never gets in fights, but when she does, she wins. She'll take on someone twice her size." Off Narcissa's raised eyebrow, "Bulstrode."  
  
Narcissa nodded and asked, "How does Daphne get along with Pansy Parkinson?"  
  
"They're quite friendly, I think. Pansy always has a clique of girls following her around, the ones who care about money and fashion, but sometimes it's more than that. I see her with a small knot of students in her year and get the sense that even a whirlwind charm couldn't tear them apart."  
  
"And those students are?"  
  
"Greengrass, Crabbe, Goyle, Zabini, and Draco. Always Draco. He's at the center of it all, and you should see how he plays it up."  
  
Narcissa smiled. "He always loved attention. Lucius was terribly worried he'd become an actor."  
  
Severus shrugged slightly, and the casual gesture seemed incongruous on his severe frame. "There's still time."  
  
Narcissa nodded, "Or there will be."  
  
He took a deep breath, then released it slowly, and if Narcissa looked closely, she could see the aches in his bones from too many crucios and beatings from his master's lackeys, and the loss of people he'd loved over the years. "Those children in Draco's group are the ones with something to hide. Most of their families have Death Eater connections, and though they glamorize the Dark Arts, they're scared to death of their peers finding out the truth."  
  
"Zabini doesn't have Death Eater connections. His family was in Italy for the first war."  
  
"Zabini is a homosexual. Times have not changed so much that a seventeen-year-old at boarding school wouldn't keep that secret."  
  
Narcissa's mouth tightened and she didn't speak for a long time. When she finally did, her voice was soft, and full of something like regret. "It seems to me that these children are all paying for someone else's choices."  
  
"Even Zabini?"  
  
"Did you choose to fall in love with Lily Evans?" Snape jerked back like he'd been slapped, and stared at her, eyes wide. "Really, Severus. We've been friends for years. You can't think I didn't know?" Off his silence, she continued, "In a world where people are being vivisected in the streets, I hardly think people should be concerning themselves with whether Blaise Zabini snogs girls or boys, and he shouldn't pay for the ignorance of those that do."  
  
Severus ventured, "And yet, Draco-"  
  
Narcissa snapped, "For god's sake, Severus!" She took a shaky breath. "If you think it's heirs I'm worried about, you're wrong. It's not even the girl's...disease. I know Remus Lupin, and whatever you may feel toward him, he's a good man."  
  
"You know he's taken up with your niece."  
  
"Well, good for them."  
  
At her quick response, sincerity tempered with sarcasm, Severus allowed himself a small smile he didn't let Narcissa see, then asked, "So, what is it then? If it's not the family lineage and it's not the girl's blood status?"  
  
Narcissa turned to face him, blue eyes sorrowful. In spite of being over forty, like most witches, she looked about fifteen years younger than she actually was. Her eyes, however, showed ever year. "In spite of everything he's been though, and the lengths we have gone to protect him, my son seems determined not to survive this war."  
  
Instinctively, Severus put an arm around Narcissa's shoulders and she allowed it. "There's still time. He's young, Narcissa, and more than any other student I've had, Draco is driven by his heart. You and I know too well how that can lead to folly, but thus far it hasn't served him badly. Your son is not a murderer, or a zealot, and he has friend that would follow him to the ends of the earth. In spite of a passion that manifests itself as recklessness, it sounds to me as though he sees a future after the war, one in which he is married and has a family of his own."  
  
Narcissa trembled slightly. "She's a child, Severus. They're both children."  
  
He squeezed her shoulder and said what they both already knew, "Children don't stay children during wartime."  
  
They stayed that way for a long time, his arm around her shoulders, her cheek resting against his arm. They stood in silence and watched over a young girl with too many scars, until Narcissa broke the silence by saying, "It seems to me that more people have died under the banner of the Dark Lord than that of Harry Potter."  
  
Severus pulled back and regarded her with surprise, but she caught his hand and squeezed it.  
  
"You know?"  
  
"Please, Severus. I've known for years."


	6. Breakfast

Harry and the others awoke to the sound of a bell ringing. The boys had given Hermione the bed the night before, so Harry and Ron woke with cricks in their necks from sleeping in the (admittedly very plush) armchairs. Mingy stood in the middle of the room gently ringing a silver bell with an expression that was probably supposed to be an apologetic smile. 

"Mistress is requesting the presence of Harry Potter and his friends at breakfast. Mistress says there is much to discuss." 

Ron snorted. "Yeah, like when we're getting out of here."

"If we're getting out of here," Harry corrected softly. 

Mingy didn't react, but waited impassively, and the moment devolved into a sort of stand-off until Hermione said, "Mingy, are you going to take us downstairs?"

"Mingy was waiting for Harry Potter and his friends to change clothing. They is wearing the same clothes they had on yesterday."

Hermione smiled benevolently. "I'm sorry, Mingy. These are the only clothes we have. Are they not appropriate for breakfast?"

Mingy's eye widened. "Mingy is sorry, friend of Harry Potter! Mingy meant no offense. Mingy will boil her feet after breakfast has been served." 

Her assertion was met with a chorus of "No" from the three humans in the room and her anxiety abated slightly. "Harry Potter and his friends may wear whatever they want." She added softly to herself, "And Mingy will find them nice clothes after breakfast."

Before anyone could tell her that wasn't necessary, Mingy had apparated them into a dining room adjacent to the one they were in before. While they got their bearing, Mingy explained, "This is the smallest dining room, used for family breakfasts and small gatherings. Dibby and Mingy have prepared a light breakfast for guests."

The table before them was immense, and piled high with a cornucopia of breakfast foods. Harry's stomach rumbled and he realized that, despite the rather decadent biscuits from the night before, he was famished. He saw Hermione and Ron reacting much as he was, but before any of them could sit down to eat, the sounds of an argument filtered in from the sitting room. 

"Once again, Draco, you have acted without thinking!" Narcissa. 

"They have a right to know!" Draco, sounding as strained and angry as he had during his last argument with his mother.

"But you did not have the right to tell them." And Snape. Harry was put to mind of every argument that he had ever had with Snape, and heartily grateful that Snape had not sounded the way he did at that moment. His voice thundered, and if pressed, Harry would have said that within the thunder, he also heard crackles of lightning. "I will not even ask how you found out because it is irrelevant. That information was kept from you for a reason and now you have endangered five more lives in your effortless pursuit of selfishness."

Draco was silent, though Harry heard the sounds of footsteps coming toward the dining room. There was a sudden pop, which startled everyone, and another house elf, this one levitating a large tray of beverages announced, "Dibby has brought tea and coffee!" 

Dibby, apparent kin of Dobby, had inherited his knack for appearing at inopportune moments. He set about setting the drinks out on the table before being pulled aside for a whispered conference with Mingy. 

Harry and his friends had been so distracted by the house elf commotion that they didn't realize Draco, Snape, and Narcissa had entered until from behind them, Draco said, "Eight lives if you count Potter's lot."

The trio spun around. Snape's face was a mask of fury, Narcissa looked exhausted, though beautiful, and Draco stood defiant, holding his ground against the man who had killed Dumbledore and the woman who had blown Fenrir Greyback's skull apart.

Snape was also wearing the same clothes he'd had on the night before, black shirt and trousers under black robes. Narcissa had changed into robes of pale blue that shimmered slightly and looked like they might have cost a year of Arthur Weasley's salary. Draco was in a plain blue t-shirt and jeans, and barefoot. Harry found himself wondering if this was how Malfoy always dressed at home, or if it was special to annoy his mother and Snape. 

Draco crossed the room to where Harry, Ron, and Hermione were standing, nodding at them before turning to face his mother and Snape. "And it doesn't matter anyway. They know, they're coming, and they want to help. Trying to stop them at this point, will only put them in more danger, and I know you know that." His eyes had dark circles underneath them, like he hadn't slept at all, but they were bright and he stood tall and alert. 

Narcissa and Snape exchanged reluctant looks. "He's right, Severus. We have to let the children come or they'll raise all manner of hell on their own. Here, we can protect them."

Draco repeated, "They want to help." 

Severus opened his mouth to shout a response and everyone tensed, but before he could speak, Narcissa touched his arm and whispered something that sounded like, "To the ends of the earth." 

Snape nodded, face softening slightly. The two adults surveyed the scene of edgy teenagers and nervous house elves before them. "Well then," Narcissa said, "Perhaps we should sit down and eat?" 

Draco shook his head. "We're not done here, Mum. I want to see Tori."

Snape sucked in a sharp breath, and Harry and the others prepared for more shouting, but Narcissa's face was soft, eyes sad. She said, "She's in the guest room one floor up from yours. Draco-" He had already started to go, but stopped at the sound of his name. "You need to prepare yourself for what you're going to see."

"I've seen her after the full moon before."

Snape answered, "But you have never seen her after a fight to the death that she would have lost." His voice was cold. Harry saw Hermione wince at the words, and when he looked at her, she looked to be on the verge of tears. He reached over and squeezed her hand. 

Draco weathered the ice in his mentor's voice and said only, "I can handle it." Snape gave a curt nod, and Draco left the room. 

Once he was gone, Hermione spoke up, voice shaking, "Professor Snape, I get it. I know you may not like me, and you certainly don't want me here, but I think you should know I understand why you're being like this." 

Snape's cold fury returned in full force as he turned his dark gaze on Hermione. Whatever he would have said, however, was quelled when Narcissa took his arm and indicated that Hermione should continue. Her blue eyes were bright and curious. 

"You love Draco. He's one of yours and last night you almost lost him. Everyone here knows what you put yourself through this year to protect him, and now you're scared, and it's even worse because now it's not just Draco who's in the line of fire. It's Pansy, and Crabbe, and Goyle, and whoever else is coming here today. They're your students and you don't want to fail them." She took a deep breath. "I know you hate me, and you're probably going to say something awful to me, but I just thought you should know that I understand. We all do." 

Before Snape could respond, Narcissa said, "Well, now that we've gotten that out of the way, perhaps we should do some eating instead of talking." She steered Severus toward the table and he went surprisingly quietly. The two adults settled into their seats and Narcissa indicated that the three teens could follow. 

Harry said softly, "We'd like to see Professor Lupin."

Narcissa nodded. "Of course. I understand you must care about him very much. He's sleeping right now, and he will be for several hours more. Seeing as none of you are embroiled in the angst of romantic involvement, however, I think you can eat a healthy breakfast first."

That thought was interrupted by a fierce pounding on the front door and an unmistakable voice shouting, "Aunt Narcissa! Open this door right now and call off your bloody attack peacocks! I've hexed five of them and I'm not afraid to do more!" The pounding continued for another moment before the group heard a shout of "Bloody hell!" and the clucking of what sounded like a very angry muster of peafowl. 

There was a long, awkward silence, broken when Mingy said, "Mingy apologizes, Mistress. If Mingy had known there was to be a party, Mingy would have prepared special breakfast and cakes." 

The group assembled surveyed the breakfast the houselves had prepared: eleven different egg dishes, three savory crepes and two sweet, two plates piled high with scones and croissants of varying flavors, a dish of pork sausage and bacon, a dish of turkey sausage and bacon, and six dishes of cut fruit. Harry heard Ron whisper, "Special breakfast?" 

Dibby joined in with, "Dibby feels that it is too late for special breakfast, but he and Mingy can conjure cakes. However, Dibby fears the cakes will not taste the same as cakes that are baked, and wonders if Mistress and her guests might like a nice trifle?" 

Both house elves turned to Narcissa expectantly. She sighed and replied, "I think this spread will be fine. One of you go rescue my niece from the birds, please.

Hermione frowned slightly, "You say 'please' to your house elves."

Narcissa's eyes narrowed and a cool smirk graced her lips. "I was raised with manners. Someone less gracious might not have let your lot spend the night indoors." 

Harry said, "You'd let us take our chances with the peacocks, then?" 

It wasn't really a joke, but it broke the tension, and when a red-faced and green-haired Nymphadora Tonks stormed into the dining room with an agitated Dibby trailing after her, she was greeted with the unlikely sight of her Aunt Narcissa sharing a laugh with the future savior of the Wizarding World, who greeted her with a smile. "'Hi, Tonks."

She stopped in the doorway and stared. Narcissa was seated at the head of the huge dining table delicately sipping a cup of tea; Harry, Ron, and Hermione were seated to her left with plates and silverware in front of them and no visible injuries that she could see, and Severus Snape sat to Narcissa's right, sipping tea that, by the color of it, probably had something stronger added to it. Tonks herself, sweaty, sore, and grass-stained, bypassed Harry entirely and strode up to where her aunt was sitting. 

"Where is he?"

Narcissa regarded her niece calmly, and replied with what was, if not affection, at least an attempt at kindness. "He's upstairs sleeping. The physician gave him some potions, so he'll be out for a while, probably at least another few hours. Why don't you sit and have some breakfast? We were just about to begin." 

Ron's stomach chose that moment to growl loudly and he flushed bright scarlet. Breaking eye contact with her niece, who still looked angry enough to spit, Narcissa turned to the four occupants of her table and said, "Go ahead. I'm sure you're hungry. I think Nymphadora and I need to talk."

Tonks said only, "I want to see him." 

Narcissa nodded, "I'll show you up." 

They walked in silence to the room where Remus lay. When they reached the door, Narcissa stopped before opening it and said, "I'll have the house elves fix you a plate and bring it up. I imagine you'll want to sit with him a while." Tonks didn't reply and she continued, "Please come down when you're ready. Severus and I were hoping you could escort the children back where they belong." 

She waited but Tonks just stared at the door, waiting for her aunt to leave. Narcissa took a shaky breath and said, "I regret what has happened to Remus. I understand that you care for him very deeply. I knew him only as Sirus' friend and Draco's teacher, but I knew enough of him to know that he deserves none of what has befallen him. I- I wish you congratulations in your relationship and I hope the two of you will make each other happy."

Narcissa turned to go and Tonks reached out and grabbed her arm. "I'm pregnant. We're married and I'm pregnant. I've only just told mum." 

Tonks' eyes were wide and Narcissa saw that her hands were shaking. She reached out and clasped them between her own. "Then my deepest congratulations to you. Your child will be very lucky." 

She moved to go let go, but Tonks held on. "He fought so hard for that kid last night, and he fights so hard for Harry. What if-" She swallowed hard. "What if he doesn't live long enough to fight for our kid?" 

Narcissa gave her a soft smile and said, "It's always hard loving someone who feels so deeply and fights fiercely to protect what they love. But it is the rarity of those individuals that makes loving them all the more worthwhile, even if we lose them." 

Tonk tilted her head, bemused, and asked, "Lucius?"

Narcissa shook her head, light and shadow playing over her face in a way that showed how much she resembled Andromeda, and she replied, "No, not Lucius." She spared a glance for the door down the hall, and smiled once more, before lightly touching Tonks' shoulder and leaving her to her husband. 

\---

Narcissa was halfway down the stairs when she heard a crash that could only be three people trying to climb through the fireplace at once, two larger forms colliding with a much smaller third. It seemed the Slytherin cavalry had arrived.


	7. Breakfast Redux

Shaky as he'd been earlier, Draco's hands were steady when he opened the door to the second guest room in the third floor hallway, the room directly above his own. He knew he was meant to be prepared for an ugly sight- blood, and bruises, and broken things- but he found he didn't care. Astoria was alive. She was going to stay alive. Draco was going to make certain that she stayed alive and that she knew he was never going to leave her again. 

It was the least he could do, considering she had almost died for him. 

She was pale and still, wrapped up in blankets with a bandage around one of her arms. Draco knelt by the bed and took one of her hands, and his heart clenched when he say the array of scrapes and bruises running up her side and across her arms and chest. She wore a plain, white slip, probably supplied by his mother, and he could see the outline of her ribs through the thin fabric. 

"Never again," he whispered. A voice in the back of his head warned him that it was foolish to make promises you couldn't keep, but he silenced it with a sharpness that jolted through his entire body. He would keep this promise. None of that die trying shite. He would keep this promise, and they would both live, and he would do his family proud, and prove them wrong, and _they would live_.

He found himself hoping that the 'how' of that determination would present itself soon, because he was running on energy drawn mostly from his emotions and the one biscuit he'd eaten last night and it wasn't going to last forever. His mind turned to the breakfast spread the house elves had laid out, but he couldn't imagine eating while Tori was up here, bones knitting and cuts slowly forming cicatrices and then scars on her fair skin.

He considered her hand as he wrapped his own around it. Small, with long fingers. Aristocratic, and not unlike his own. He imagined her face next to his own in the Hall of Portraits. He imagined her ten years in, scars long healed, playing with their children. They would name the boy Hyperion and the girl whatever Astoria wanted. Daphne, probably. 

Was he crazy to be thinking like this? Pansy and Blaise would say yes, but they would not try to deter him from it. He imagined the sadness in Pansy's eyes, how she would throw her arms around his neck and say, "Of course you're crazy. Hold on to it." Blaise would smile ruefully and say something about how he wanted children too and that they shared about an equal likelihood of having them with their chosen partners. Crabbe would huff and say, "'Course you want kids. Kids are great. Not crazy at all," and Goyle would take out his notebook and make some notes about werewolf rights and 'theatre of action.' 

Daphne. Daphne would sidestep the question. Was Draco crazy to want to have a life and a family with her sister? Daphne would smile and say, "Just take care of her, Malfoy. As long as you're happy, you're doing something right." 

Safe and happy, that would be the tricky part. He was the scion of the Black and Malfoy lines, however, and he could take on tricky, especially with his friends standing by him. He'd told Astoria all about them, during their long nights in the werewolf camp. Pansy, who drew all of the light in the room to her and made those she stood with brighter by comparison; Blaise, quick-witted and loyal, whose charm was only outmatched by his depth; Crabbe and Goyle, quiet, shy boys with dreams that surprised everyone (Draco made a mental note to warn Granger of Goyle's crush on her before he arrived); and Daphne, her sister, the sad, beautiful girl who buried herself in work to forget that there was another girl who should have been beside her. 

Well, she'd have her chance to see her sister now. Draco hadn't even hesitated when he fired off two owls, one to Pansy, Blaise, Crabbe, and Goyle, and one longer one to Daphne, telling all of them what had happened to Tori and Professor Lupin. They could help him work out what to do, and even just knowing that they knew what he was going through made the weight somehow easier to bear. He had hoped that knowing her sister was alive and safe in Malfoy Manor would relieve some of Daphne's strain and help her keep it together. What had happened next was unexpected, though not altogether surprising.

Draco had sent off his eagle owl in the early hours of the morning with instructions to deliver the owls directly to Pansy and Daphne and not to wait for the breakfast feast. He'd fallen into a deep sleep for a couple of hours, secure that he had done all that he could do for the moment. He was woken around seven by one of the school owls carrying a small pink note written in Pansy's elegant hand. _The Carrow's floo is unsecured. We'll be there soon._

Draco's heart clenched when he thought of his friends going into danger for him. Pansy, Crabbe, and Goyle all had families that were serving the Dark Lord, serving along with his father, but they were willing to stand by him whatever he chose to do. They were willing to fight to save their families, even if it meant betraying them. It would have been so much easier to submit, but they had seen Draco after he took the mark, and not one of them had faulted him for not killing Dumbledore, only asked him to stay safe and keep an eye on how their fathers and brothers were doing, and to look after Professor Snape and Tori as best as he could. 

Draco was not about to fail them, and he was not surprised that they came when he called. 

Draco considered the bed in the nondescript guest room. Back at the camp, the werewolves slept in piles, all wrapped around one another. It was part safety in numbers and part just to feel the warmth and power of pack all around you. The few times he'd managed to share his bed with Astoria, she'd curled around him and snuggled her head up on his chest. Draco wasn't used to sharing a bed with another person, nor sharing the warmth of his body so freely, but he loved the look of complete trust and relaxation on Tori's face when she curled up with him. 

He wondered. It was said stimulating blood flow to the skin could speed healing, and werewolves always slept better with the comfort of pack. There was only one of Astoria's wolf pack at the Manor and he was laid up with damage in a different room. Draco, however, could be her pack. He supposed in the back of his mind, he had already decided that he was. 

Carefully, he moved the sheets aside and edged in next to Astoria, gathering her into his arms. She didn't wake, but curled her body around his the way she always did, and Draco held her, and listened to the steady flutter of her heart, and waited. 

\-----

When Narcissa arrived, Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle were helping a disheveled Blaise Zabini off the floor of the sitting room while Pansy and Daphne cast cleaning charms on the boys and the carpet. "Hello children." 

All five heads snapped up, Vincent and Greg looking guilty and nervous, Daphne looking petrified, and Pansy and Blaise staring at her with a mixture of defiance and respect. She'd seen that look many times in Draco's eyes, most recently when he told her he was going to join the Dark Lord to save his father. 

Pansy was the first to speak. "Hello, Narcissa. Mrs. Malfoy, I mean. We've come to see Draco." 

"Narcissa is fine, Miss Parkinson. I've known you for years now, and you're practically an adult yourself. However, I'm afraid, right at this moment, you cannot see Draco."

Pansy's "Why?" came out much sharper than her companions would have preferred, and they winced collectively. Blaise lay a hand on her arm and asked:

"He's with her, isn't he?" Off Narcissa's nod, he said, "Right, well, we'll just wait here then," and moved to take a seat before losing his bold momentum and asking a sheepish, "If that's all right?" 

Narcissa gestured for the five students to follow her instead, explaining, "There's breakfast in here. I imagine you lot skipped that?" She smirked when five heads nodded vigorously and Crabbe and Goyle patted their stomachs. "Right then, tuck in." 

The Slytherins went to sit down, hesitating when they saw three infamous Gryffindors sitting on one side of the table. After a short moment, hunger won over, and Pansy gave a huff and marched around to where Professor Snape sat. Daphne joined her, while Blaise settled himself next to Ron, and Crabbe and Goyle next to Blaise. 

The two large boys began eating with ferver, as though it was the first food they'd seen in days, while Pansy delicately selected a chocolate croissant and thrust a second one at Daphne. Blaise speared a sausage on his fork and took a bite, before asking cheekily, "Professor Snape, aren't you supposed to be at school?" 

Black eyes narrowed and a voice dripping with disdain answered, "Aren't you?" 

To the great surprise of Harry, Ron, and Hermione, all five Slytherins and Narcissa burst out laughing, and Snape allowed himself a small smile. He began asking the students about their classes, and how they were progressing in their preparation for N.E.W.Ts. Crabbe talked mostly about Care of Magical Creatures, which was when Harry found out he wanted to breed hippogriffs. Well, sort of.

"What I want to do is see if I can breed them with unicorns, and get great magical horses with wings and claws. Imagine riding one of those." When asked where he came up with the idea, he responded, "All started in third year, yeah? When that hippogriff did a number on Draco. Well, not because of that. That one was a right bast- jerk." He cast an apologetic glance toward Narcissa, who pretended not to have noticed anything. "But before, it had let Potter ride it, and that was bloody brilliant. Besides, I reckon I don't need many N.E.W.Ts for it. None, really." He sighed. "I don't do well on tests. Or homework, really." 

The others nodded sympathetically, and Snape queried Pansy about what N.E.W.Ts she would take. He immediately regretted it when she loftily answered, "Oh, I suppose I'll take all of them, but it's not as if I need them." 

Fearing he already knew that her answer was _I'm going to marry rich_ , Snape reluctantly asked her why not, and almost choked on his tea when she responded, "Well, Goyle's going to write plays and I'm going to star in them. We'll be the most talked-about creative team on the West End." 

From the other side of the table, Goyle snapped the first words he'd spoken since arriving, "Bloody hell, Pansy! That was supposed to be a secret." His ears turned very pink and he cast a glance down the table to gauge the reactions Pansy's announcement had garnered. 

Hermione gave him an encouraging smile and said, "Well, that's lovely! Goyle, I didn't know you wrote plays." 

Turning pinker, he nodded rapidly and then busied himself with his eggs. 

Blaise started to talk about his plans for after school, which seemed to involve Hollywood and glamour charms, but he fell silent when Draco and Astoria appeared at the doorway.

For a moment, everyone froze. Then, Daphne scrambled up from the table and ran to her sister, stopping short when she saw her injuries. Astoria reached out to her sister with her good hand and Daphne clutched it, tears pouring down her face. Draco took a step back to give the sisters their moment. 

Pansy murmered to no one in particular. "They haven't seen each other for two years. Just owls." 

Hermione whispered to Ron, "Imagine not seeing Ginny for two years." Ron shivered. 

Crabbe spoke up, in a rumble that was probably supposed to be a whisper, "Guys, I don't think we should be staring. 'Cos, they're right there, and they know we're staring."

Goyle added, "I think they can hear us too." 

Narcissa smiled brightly at them and said, "Quite right, boys," and everyone returned to their food. 

Daphne wiped her eyes with her left hand, unwilling to let go of her sister, and said, "Are you-" She didn't finish the thought, but her sister nodded, grey eyes calm and focused, like the ocean after a storm. 

"I'm okay. I'm really okay, and I'm glad you're here." She lifted her gaze and took in the rest of the room, a bemused expression crossing her face. "All of you, I guess." A thought crossed her mind and her expression quickly became one of worry. "But this is so dangerous."

At that, Narcissa stood and crossed to her. "Why don't you let Severus and myself worry about that? Right now, we're just glad you're here and all right. We can deal with the rest when Nymphadora returns." 

At the mention of the metamorphmagus, the Slytherins murmured, intrigued. Hearing Tonks' name, Harry asked, "Does this mean Remus will be awake soon too?" 

Everyone turned to Professor Snape, who assumed a gentler lecturing tone than Harry had ever heard him use at Hogwarts. "The werewolf metabolism is roughly twice that of an average human, and a teen's is much faster than an adult's. As such, adolescents tend to metabolize potions faster than adults. Often the doses are adjusted accordingly, but there has been so little study done on safe dosages for werewolves that Healer Tracht probably didn't want to take any chances. It could yet be hours before Lupin wakes up." 

Crabbe mused, "Werewolves have high metabolisms. That must be why they're all so thin." 

Pansy sighed and asked, "Crabbe, how many werewolves do you know?"

He answered, "Well, Professor Lupin, and now I know Tori too." He gave the petite girl a smile. "Hi, Tori."

She returned it, amusement lighting up her face, "Hi."

Encouraged, he ventured, "I bet you have to eat a lot to keep weight on. You should try the egg thing in the middle here. It's go three different kinds of cheese."

Goyle punched him lightly in the shoulder, "Girls don't like cheese." 

Crabbe stood his ground. "Some girls like cheese." He looked back at Astoria, waiting for her response. Her lips were pursed in thought. 

Draco, reading her expression, asked, "Do you think you can keep food down?"

She shrugged lightly. "I can try."

Narcissa said, "Well, come and sit down at least. Maybe start with some toast and then you can work your way up to the cheesy eggs." She returned to her seat, briefly squeezing Severus' hand when she sat down. It went largely unnoticed, except by Pansy and Blaise. 

Astoria followed Daphne to her side of the table and settled into the chair next to her, exchanging 'Hello's with Pansy, but looking away and blushing slightly when Professor Snape looked at her. Draco, in the chair next to her, put an arm around her and gave a general glare in Snape's direction, as if warning him against saying anything. Snape calmly looked elsewhere, and Blaise, witnessing the silent exchange, piped up with, "So, I was just telling everyone how I'm moving to Hollywood after Hogwarts. I think my glamours are wasted in Wizarding England."

"Do shut up about your glamours, Blaise." Pansy took a swig of her pumpkin juice and leaned forward on the table, eyes gleaming. "Now that everyone's here, I want to know what Potter's going to do to get our families back."


End file.
